


interlude

by SkylandMountain1013



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: 5x21 speculation, F/M, just a little something
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-09
Updated: 2018-05-09
Packaged: 2019-05-04 06:25:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 688
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14586924
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SkylandMountain1013/pseuds/SkylandMountain1013
Summary: If he really analyzes it, this isn’t the best time for the conversation they need to have.But he’s also not sure if there is ever going to be a good time.





	interlude

**Author's Note:**

> I'm not the first to write a scene based on those promo pics.. and i won't be the last.

They get shoved into a holding cell rather unceremoniously- and just like that, it’s quiet. 

Phil staggers towards the bench and immediately sits, hanging his head between his knees. The adrenaline is wearing off and is being replaced with nausea- his eyes water and his fingertips dig into his thighs as he rides the waves. 

“You okay?” Melinda’s voice sounds miles away, but the small hand on his back proves otherwise. 

He manages a small nod. It’s probably not convincing. 

Everything hurts. Whether it’s from the gravitonium effects or from his injury, he can’t move much without pain searing through his body. He feels the sweat running down his back and focuses on slowing his breathing. At least his chest isn’t rattling right now. 

He tests sitting up, and the room only spins for a moment. “Force choking isn’t as cool as it looks in the movies,” he offers weakly.

It gains him the faintest hint of a smile. 

Melinda slides back and rests her head against the wall. “I’m getting tired of the constant kidnapping,” she says, eyes closed. 

“We’ve had better days, yeah.” He feels the circulation returning to his fingers. 

They sit in silence as thoughts rattle around in Phil’s head. If he really analyzes it, this isn’t the best time for the conversation they need to have. 

But he’s also not sure if there is ever going to be a good time. 

He takes a deep breath. “So, since we seem to have a bit of time on our hands- we still haven’t finished our conversation.”

She doesn’t open her eyes. “Phil. Not now.” There’s no vitriol in her voice, just muted resignation. While her exhaustion is different, he can only imagine it matches the intensity of his own. 

Nevertheless, he’s tired of being stagnant. 

He focuses on keeping his voice soft. “It’s pretty impressive to be in trouble for both not talking and talking at the same time. I need you to choose one, I really do.”

Her eyes open and she hangs her head ever so slightly. “I’m sorry. Talk.”

He shifts so they’re closer. If he wanted to, he could reach and tilt her chin up with his fingers. He doesn’t. 

“I don’t remember what it’s like not to love you. It’s as simple as that.” The words slide out easy. It doesn’t surprise him— she’s been spliced into his DNA for years. 

She’s still. Her arms are wrapped around her knee and now he does reach to tip her gaze towards him.

He presses on. “But I’ve been angry. At the Kree, at the world, at myself. It’s _not_ _fair_. Everything I’ve hoped for and it won’t last. I won’t last.”

She stiffens at the end of his sentence. It hurts more than anything else affecting him. “I wish you’d stop saying that.” Her voice is small and he can see the sheen across her eyes. 

He moves to rest his forehead against hers. She doesn’t pull away and he’s beyond thankful for it. Their breaths mingle and for a second he thinks that maybe if he breathes her in, it’ll cure him. 

“I’ve realized though,” he says slowly, “that it doesn’t change how I feel.” 

She moves as he does and they meet halfway- and it’s not the first kiss he’s always dreamed of. He’s imagined passionate and euphoric, not bittersweet and tinged with tears. 

But her lips are warm against him and when he twines a hand through her hair a small keening noise escapes from her and it hits him like a ton of bricks-  _ she loves him.  _

He pulls away enough to drag his thumb across the side of her jaw. 

“I love you, Phil.” 

He smiles. “It sounds a lot better when you say it like that.”

She lets out a watery laugh. 

“What do we do now?”

“I don’t know,” he answers truthfully. He moves to settle her against his side and presses a kiss to her temple. 

“Let’s just sit here for a moment. The end of the world needs to wait.” She rests her fingers over his chest. 

“Okay,” he breathes. “Okay.”


End file.
